


Paladin Comfort

by MissBumblina



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gross, SHIIIIIIT, my eye itches and pink eye is going around rn, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBumblina/pseuds/MissBumblina
Summary: A comfort piece for a tumblr friend that I'll keep anonymous for now.





	Paladin Comfort

“If you run me into a wall, Danse, I swear to God,” you groped at the air, eyes securely hidden behind an old bandanna.

“Trust me, soldier,” his large hands encompassed yours, gently leading you forward, “it’ll only be for a moment.”

You did trust him, more than anyone else you’ve known in these God forsaken wastelands. You’d gone through so much together, sometimes, it felt like you’d gone through everything together. Super mutants, the Institute, Elder Maxson’s wrath. He told you his fears and concerns, you told him about your doubts and heartache. You made him feel human, and he gave you order in the post-war chaos.

To say you trusted him was an understatement.

Danse gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to the left before setting you in place, “are you ready, soldier?” 

You had to stop yourself from licking your lips, something smelled amazing. Even with the blindfold, you could see warm light around the edge of your vision. And was that Chopin you heard? Oh who cares? It wasn’t one of the same couple dozen songs you’d heard over and over and over again in the Commonwealth.

“Yes, Danse,” you huffed a laugh, “take off this blindfold already!”

“Yes ma’am,” his voice was soft and affectionate, matching his touch as he lifted the bandanna.

You blinked in the soft orange glow of candles all around you. A table carefully set with a clean, if not lightly stained, cloth and silk roses in a nearly pristine vase. There were two plates of steaming food and glasses of your favorite drink sitting, waiting for you. And beside you, Danse put on his best soldier face, not letting any nerves show.

Your hands flew to your mouth as you drank it all in, every planned detail, every hand picked flower and candle, and him, clearly sweating but stoic as the day you met him. 

“Danse…” you squeezed your eyes shut and leaned into him, breaking his composure. His whole body softened and his arms snaked around you, holding you close enough to hear the hammering of his heart. Warm lips and bristly facial hair pressed against your forehead.

“You work so hard,” he began, low and soft, “you deserve so much more than what I can give. But…” he cleared his throat, clearly nervous, “I want you to know what you mean to me. I know life has hurt and been hard on you, but the strength you don’t know you have is inspiring. I know that you’ll get the life you thirst for, and I’ll be here every step of the way and every bump in the road.

…I love you.”


End file.
